iMNOT
by AcronymsAnonymous
Summary: <html><head></head>Sorry, my first fan fiction, I wrote it, like, a long while ago. Forgive my OOC to the greatest extremity, and only read this if you're prepared to wince a bit at my younger self's writing. And while you do that, have fun! :D</html>


My feet dragged as I trod through the clean and noisy hallways of Ridgeway. Florescent lights beat down on my irritated face, and I put a hat on my head to shoo them off. Various students were laughing and smiling, those with any sense were walking to the lunch room with their head down, as I was. Just trying to get through the day. I made my way through the big swinging doors into the bustling hall of all hellish madness. As I tried to get through a thought, a tray of Macaroni and Cheese spun through the air, just missing my nose. I didn't even flinch. It was just normal, nothing new in the land of crazy. I continued on and sat myself at one of the more talkative tables. If I didn't, people would be curious. They'd be asking questions. Then some new gossip would spread around the school like a dry summer's wildfire. What I'd give during my moods to have different friends, less cheerful friends, gloomy friends. I'd give up the one ring if I had to, that is if I had it. But that would be stupid. Maybe I'd give up half the songs on my ipod. The worse songs. Yeah, that's it. I retrieved a bag lunch from my blue backpack and started solemnly munching on my toasted PB&J. Across the table, nothing was out of place.

Carly sat giggling as she watched a cute boy pass. Sometimes I believe her to be nothing more than an airhead. And next to her Sam was crossing her arms with her feet on the table, an already clean plate of what was once ham, by the smell of it, by her worn out Keds. All the while that genius idiot Freddie struggled to get Sam's already too chewed gum out of his dorky haircut that his mom had given him that last week. If the hair was cut just that much more, he might actually be cute. On my side of the table, Gibby was looking at the lunch lady suspiciously for whatever reason while my idiot twin, such an idiot, flirted with him. I sighed and re-submerged in my food.

"Aw, Jenny." Carly giggled at my sister. "I'm sorry."

"Her fault she likes an idiot." Sam shrugged. "Later. Gonna fetch me more meat."

Sam got up and walked away, throwing aside some guy in her path. Carly sighed.

"She's so mean Carly. Will you tell me why we like her again?" Freddie shot half consciously as he stared after his tormenter.

"Oh, Freddie." Carly sighed, staring at the ceiling. Then she stared straight at me. "Julie's in a mood, isn't she?"

"Shut up." I shot back, though I knew it was true.

"You really shouldn't do that." Freddie defended.

"What?" Carly asked innocently. Was I the only one who saw the little devil in her? Probably. I shoved the rest of my food into my face. Carly turned back to Freddie and got him started on some talk about the newest Pear-Book functions on the newest Pear-Book.

"Well," he began, "you see there's this new privacy setting for the video chatting, so you can, basically, control what the person you're calling sees and hears from you. For instance, you can have a 'Pet Name' that you use and they might see when you call them, so they would see Diva or something when you were calling them. And you can opt in or out of voice and face thwart options, so you can choose if you want them to see and hear you. Pretty cool, huh? Of course, if you're a hacker like me, you can undo all that stuff with the right accesses and- ow!"

Sam had come back and took it upon herself to rid Freddie of the gum by yanking out a clump of that hair. Luckily it was from a particularly thick spot so there wasn't a bald spot, but Freddie was still hissing in pain.

"Look, the gum's gone, Fredwart." She declared, sitting down again and gruesomely ripping off a chunk of ham jerky.

"That hurt!" he screamed at her. She shrugged. "Carly, aren't you going to do something?"

"Sam." she sighed her usual small scold. Sam gave Freddie an 'I'm her favorite, I can do what I want' look.

"What, there was gum in his hair!" Sam replied defensively. Then she nodded at me. "Where you going?"

"Somewhere." I replied, slinging my backpack over a shoulder and heading out a door.

"Do you believe Gibby is a mermaid?" Sam called after me.

"Yes." my sister and I replied at the same time, though my sister replied dreamily while I replied with the thickening urge to flee. So I took off without another moment's thought. I took off for the special corner that I seldom retreated to, so not every time I was in a mood. I leaned against the wall and opened a book. I opened Harry Potter today, the worn and beaten paperback cover of the first book that I carried everywhere I went, it seems. A coffee stain on the cover. My cat's teeth mark on nearly every page. Frayed edges and a bent spine. The only place I can really call home is within this book. I've tried reading other books, but none have called to me like this one. But I'm not obsessed. I just like the story that much, if it makes any sense. I flipped open to any page and submerged. My breath quickened as Harry was spying on someone for the first time and he might be found out and terrible things happened. The soft clack of footfall against the linoleum floors in our own reality caught me off guard. I quietly and quickly put my book away and swiftly pressed myself against the wall.

"Julie? Julie?" a voice called. It was that idiot Freddie. I held my breath and closed my eyes, if I couldn't see him he wasn't there. "Julie?" he peered around the corner and caught my eye for a second. Our pupils locked and I felt a little bit of fear. Then the bell rang and the stampede leaked through each door and window. I managed to get just ahead of them, the quicker at my heels. However, he was not so lucky. He had tripped over something and slipped on the hair Sam had ripped out and his shoe got stuck on her gum. He ended up splayed out on the ground, trampled, and unable to move, with his shoe stuck in place and his heavy geek backpack on top of him and tens of twenties of little feet stepping on places that should never be stepped on. No one but me seemed to notice, and I was safe against a locker wall. Then I made what might have been a mistake. I dropped my backpack outside my classroom door and cried out to that little punk, "Shit, Fred, you owe me one for this!" I slid self consciously directly through the middle of the un-parting crowd, right to where he was lying in the middle. I reached down and grabbed his elbow and dragged him to the side into the vacant science room. Mr. Twit was away for his coffee break and he didn't teach this period anyway.

"Thanks." he whispered.

"Do I have to revive you?" I asked, one eyebrow raised.

"No." he choked out, still lying down. I sat on the floor and gently poked him. In very innocent places, of course. First one arm, then his legs. With one poke to his right leg, he shrieked.

"It's a good thing you have me in your fourth period class." I sighed. "Or else we'd both be dead right now." I pulled a wheelchair out from the corner and opened it, putting him in. They had wheelchairs in some places for the handicapped students that currently don't attend, but in this room, it's purely for learning about something or other. I forget. But it still worked. So I helped him in.

"I can walk, really." he insisted.

"Really?" I asked. "Then I'll just put this away and let Sam decide."

"I can't walk." he whimpered, thinking of Sam. With a tennis racket, I assume. I remember that to be a particularly scary experience for him.

"I'll take you to class." I sighed at the injustice. If I had brought attention to myself, then he probably wouldn't be here, and would be sitting peacefully in my corner instead. Or, better yet, he could be sitting in our classroom, with me close behind, on time and in good shape. And plus, would I have to push his wheelchair? I mean, really? "Actually, never-mind. I think you should go straight to the nurse."

"Uh, no." he responded. "If I have to miss one more second of Chemistry, I'll fail the test."

"You won't fail." I comforted. Oh god, what's happening to me? He's a nerd. Nerds are bad. Then I said more harshly, "You're going to the office, like it or not!"

"Okay!" he whimpered in submission.

"Sorry." I sighed, pushing him out the door. Then it was straight through the empty halls to the office.

"What have we here?" asked the always grumpy secretary in a monotone.

"Him." I said quickly. "He's injured."

"Really." she replied with an eye roll. "Another one of Sam's Texas Wedgies?"

"No." I replied, and he was blushing. "He got stampeded in the hall. I think his right leg is broken."

"Which one?" she asked, coming out from behind her desk.

"The right one." I confirmed. She poked it and he screamed.

"Yeah, definitely." she nodded.

"Why did you poke it?" he demanded loudly. "I'm already in pain!"

"Well," the secretary continued on, ignoring him, "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No." he said in a low voice. "You know my mom, she would totally-"

"Yeah, it seems serious." I replied, ignoring him.

"Alright, I'll call the hospital." she intoned.

"No!" he shrieked. "Do you guys have any sense at all?"

"Walk." I said. "Walk to the other side of the room and back and we'll let you off the hook." He grunted and pushed himself off, only to fall flat on his face.

"Ow." he groaned.

"Told you so." I replied. "Do you have the ambulance on dial?"

"Please don't tell my mom." he whimpered. I nodded, then stopped.

"She'll find out somehow. Like when you have to enter for your insurance to pay for the damage or when you come home with a cast. Or when they call home with the name of Benson." I added.

"You should go to class." he sighed. "I mean, the ambulance will be here soon."

"I-" I began, but he cut me off.

"Go!" he screamed. I sprinted from the office and into the classroom, where I stood at the doorway, panting. All eyes on me. My sister Jenny's, Carly's, Sam's, the teacher's. There was no escape. I shuffled into my seat, quite aware of all the heads turning to follow me.

"Julie, do you have an excuse for being late?" the teacher asked, his big white eyebrow rising halfway to his high hairline and his glare peeking out from below.

"Uh, no, yes, kind of." I mumbled.

"I'm waiting." he stated.

"Fredwart got trampled in the hall so I took him to the office. And now I'm here." I said. Sam snorted.

"I wish I could have been there and watched him get trampled." she sighed. As we all know, being mean to Freddie, who I think she likes, is her second favorite thing next to meat. And that says a lot.

"Sure thing. Uhuh. Yes, he was in pain. Don't worry, I went right in and got him. Yes, even through the crowd of kids. No, I don't think you'd have lasted very long Mrs. Benson. Yes. Okay. See you." I comforted his mom. Then I hung up. Oh for the love of diamonds. She's as mad as a cow. Her insanity has been widely known throughout the apartment building for quite a while now, in fact, ever since she first moved in with little toddler Freddie. Her overprotectiveness has been noted, too. But never before had I been forced to confront it. As I dropped the phone back into the slot, I could hear Mrs. Benson upstairs screaming about him needing to eat his vegetables, especially when he was injured. I rolled my eyes. No wonder he's so innocent and unknowing, but still so knowing and smart. It doesn't make sense at first, but really? If he can't watch the nature channel because his mom says no, he won't know what goes on in real life. And if she always makes him do his homework first, before, say, shooting another episode of iCarly, then he'll have better grades and learn more faster. Plus, he was probably born a little nerd too. But something about this situation was confusing to me. He was a nerd. I was never a nerd. I didn't even get good grades most of the time. I mean, this is one level on which I can relate to Sam. If Sam's twin is perfect and nice and gets good grades and has the same physical features, then Sam must get shot down by her mom because she's kind of mean and gets bad grades. I don't get grades as bad as Sam does, I get a C+ average. But there's always Jenny. Jenny with the perfect grades. And since I'm always getting shot down for my bad grades, I automatically hate those who get good ones. Not my sis, of course, but nerds in general who know everything. Like Freddie.

But not Freddie. And this is what I found confusing. I don't like nerds. But do I like a nerd?

I blew off my thoughts and sat down at the table, gnawing at my eraser. I pulled out my algebra and started, leaning back slightly as if a bit intimidated. I was intimidated. I mean, come on, Math's intimidating. I wondered how Freddie got this so easily. Then I slammed the book shut. I was finished, that was all my homework for the day. And also, he was plaguing my mind. So I got up and walked over to the television, where my twin sat taking up half the couch, watching one of her cheesy drama shows. I rolled my eyes, but she was there first. It's like a rule, if someone's at the television first and watching some stupid show, you still have to let them watch. Because they were there first. And so I sat and watched with her for a bit, before a character 'Fred' came into play and I couldn't stand to witness another moment. So I got up and paraded to my room where I sat comfortably and read a book. Harry Potter. The one place I could get away. And so I read, until the shadows parted for the evening star and the moon fought its way through the clouds and darkness, presenting itself to the dreary eyed world. Because they need that little moonlight, the people do. Because if there's little light, there's little hope.

The buzzer beeped, and I tried to ignore it, but to no avail. I dug myself out of my little blanket burrow and clawed at the little piece of machinery hacking away at my sanity from the bedside table. And as soon as I got that noise under control, the Pear Phone next to it started spewing my hand-crafted ringtone. A little salsa jig on marimba that melted into a tango and finished off with the gentle rhythm of beads falling in a rainstick, then quieting into silence.

"Hey?" I greeted, yawning. "If you aren't aware, it's very early in the morning and-"

I was cut off by the sound of an almost identical argument to one I'd heard a few days ago. ("Eat your vegetables!" "Mom, it's breakfast! That's too early!" "Then eat your fruit!" "You didn't give me any fruit!" "Well, at least eat your prune pop." "Fine!" "Good.")

"Hi." A voice greeted me after a second or so. My heart rate sped like lightning. My breathing stopped. My jaw dropped to my chest.

"Hello?" I asked, sounding, hopefully, more self assured than I felt.

"Sorry for calling so early." he apologized.

"Yeah, well, thanks a lot." I spat out, my wide eyes wandering the room.

"Do you think you could drive me to school today?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, backtracking.

"Uncle Phil came into town and Mom insists on watching his every move."

"Why?"

"Well," he replied more quietly, "He's had some financial problems recently and she's convinced he's going to steal something."

"That doesn't explain much but whatever." I laughed. "Um, sure, I guess. Mom will probably be alright with that."

"Great!" he chuckled. "And, by the way, thanks for rescuing me."

"No problem." I deviously giggled. And because I hate nerds, I added, "It's like the princess and knights situation in reverse, if it was Carly she'd be thanking you. Maybe I'm the knight in shining armor and you're the wimpy prince locked up in a space ship tower."

"Maybe." he laugh-whimpered. Then I hung up, feeling a bit bad rather than fulfilled. I turned around and got up, walking to my dresser, passing several black, pink and dark green band posters as I went. The dresser itself had three big drawers and a big, crooked mirror on top. I slid out the top drawer and took out fresh underwear, then I opened the other two for jeans and a shirt.

I stared myself down in the mirror, scrutinizing every angle and smoothed over edge. I wished things I hadn't wished in a long time. I wished that my almost-blue black hair fell farther than my shoulder-blades, that my lips were a little fuller. That my eyes were something interesting, like blue or green, rather then a dark brown. I wished that my tan olive skin was a lighter shade, like pearl, and that I carried myself high and irresistible, rather than slouchy and a constant grumble.

Eventually I decided not to mock my image any more and sprinted out to the living room, then the kitchen, where I proudly shoved a peeled banana down my throat and chased it down with some milk. Then I rushed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and hopped over to my mom.

"Hey, mom." I laughed.

"Hello, honey." she groaned, taking her first sips of coffee. "What do you want?"

"Um, I was wondering if we could do a carpool today." I grinned with my most angelic smile, hoping to instantly win her over. She glared at me from behind the newspaper.

"Honey, I'm not really in the mood for a carpool." she hissed, dipping back under into the black and white lettered abyss.

"One of my friends asked for a ride." I admitted finally. "Their mom is unable to drive them and so I kindly volunteered mine."

She rolled her eyes at this and I pulled a tight grin.

"Please? They should be over in a few!" I pleaded.

"Who is this?" she asked, throwing down her coffee and paper, staring me straight in the eye. "Carly?"

"Actually..." I corrected, then with a sigh, "it's Freddie."

"Alright." Mom said, unaware of the small amount of awkwardness in the air. She put the paper down under the table and sighed. "Just give me a few minutes to make myself presentable."

"Thanks!" I yipped. I made sure everything was in order and waited like a dork at the door. Hands on hips. Leaning against the peep hole. A figure came into view and I jumped into the middle of the room and stomped to the door. Whoever it was had passed. But then Freddie's obnoxious little face appeared, moving back and forth. I stomped to make it sound like I was running, before I realized he hadn't rung the doorbell yet, and so I actually walked away, just as the 'ding-dong' bleeped out. I turned, groaned, and marched back to the spot, where I flung open the door and gestured for him to come in.

He raised his eyes and strutted in, eyeing the place. His outfit for the day was like his usual, jeans and a t-shirt, this one blue, with an unbuttoned plaid short sleeve, this one brown.

"So." he awkwardly began.

"Mom will be out in a minute." I sighed, squinting at him. "In the mean while, make yourself as temporarily comfortable as possible. We'll be leaving soon."

He simply shrugged and meandered around the living room for the remainder of time until my mom appeared, looking all perky and full of coffee. I smiled. She led us out into the parking lot, my sister close behind, where she selfishly forced me to sit in the back with Fred and let my sister sit in the front for the day. I stayed close to one door, and so he was quietly pressed against the other. And when we arrived at school, I gave him some special 'nerd' treatment.

"You get out first." I whispered. "Go in front of the car to the side and look like you were coming from it. Run ahead. I don't want Sam to think you rode with us, and I don't think you do either." Then I reluctantly added, "You may not know it, but I think she might be just a little jealous. Now, go!"

He hopped right out on my command and I felt really bad as he looked uneasily from side to side before sliding behind the black van to our right and sprinting out around the side. That's the point when I looked side to sighed and screamed, "That idiot!"

I walked around to the back of the car, pulled open the trunk, and stared down. Three backpacks lay solemnly against the soft rug-like fabric. I slapped the metal and looked to the clouds.

"Shit." I cursed. I swung both of our backpacks over my shoulders and started heading down the walk to our first period. Yes. Fred and I shared that many classes. But suddenly I saw him bolting up to me, and so I swung his back pack off my shoulder and held it out. However, I did this just as he reached for my arm to get it, resulting in his backpack dangling from my limp fingers as my elbow sat, bent, on his shoulder, giving the visual effect of my putting my arm around his neck. Like, like a kind of awkward hug. Ew. I was probably blushing, because he had his hand on my shoulder. He was blushing as well. This pose remained for almost a whole second, before I dropped his backpack to the pavement and took a step back. And since he wasn't getting the hint, I pushed him back a little bit and moved myself a few feet in the opposite direction. "Ew." I laughed cruelly. "Personal space, dude. Ever heard of it?"

With that I took off, passing next to him. I turned just as he managed to trip backwards over his backpack. Really? But I didn't stay to accept the thanks coming my way, if there was any. I just kept on going. Smirking faces turned in the halls, I guess many people like to hang out in the bushes and spy on the private lives of kids coming to school. Like there isn't enough drama around there already. It just shows how action-starved little middle school brats can be. I almost asked someone why they weren't peering through the window at Brad and Jessica when they were making out in the girls' bathroom this morning instead of watching me catch that poor loser's fall, but I didn't. I just managed to stop myself. At my locker, I got my binders and checked my hair in the magnetic blue mirror on the inside. Even then I saw the reflections of passing faces giving me queer and half knowing little grins as they stepped by. One boy even had the guts to stop and look at me for a while longer. That's when I slammed my locker door and looked at him.

"What do you want?" I screamed at him. He seemed unbothered by my shouting.

"I heard you and Freddie Benson had a 'moment' outside. Really, him?" he chuckled. Then he slowly shook his head.

"Who told you that?" I inquired.

"Jimmy Melon." he admitted quickly with a slow sigh.

"Well, it isn't any of your business!" I shouted. Then I pushed him into the locker next to mine as I walked away. I only got in four steps before I heard his annoying little voice again.

"You're not denying it. Do you have something going on?" he asked. I didn't even turn and look, but I did lash out. I slid on my heels before shaking him and slamming him into a locker. Then I was off. I did look back at some point, I admit. And he was walking away. Not extremely hurt looking, but a bit annoyed. I still felt bad, but I don't know why. And then I turned and sighed, leaning against a locker and sliding into my corner. That's when I got it. That Freddie brat was doing it to me. It was all his fault! He made people look down on me, and that got me angry. But I don't think I could stop feeling better than bad about him. He's kind of okay. And then I shrank back. And that's what I was beating myself up about. And that's what made me feel like harming others. And that's what made Sam turn sour, I bet. With a sigh, I resigned to my book. I pulled that old copy of Harry Potter out of my backpack, but it held little comfort for me now. Even Harry has his Ginny, but me? I had no one. Not at the moment. And probably not in any moment to come in the future. But looking at Ron and Hermione, there was the possibility that things could get better. So I read on, and hoped for the best, though I already knew the outcome of both stories, mine and theirs.

Or so I thought.

My first period teacher was a god of kindness, though just for one day. He completely pretended to believe my excuse of skinning my elbow and going away to clean out the wound for like forty minutes, and I didn't skip any other classes for the rest of the day. And I hoped I wouldn't skip any more for the rest of the week, too. But by the way everything was looking, I didn't suspect to have such luck. I highly suspected I'd have a few more mental breakdowns and shut down my brain for a bit, sitting in the corner. But I couldn't be sure.

I made it to lunch alright, I'm sorry to say. I didn't break a leg like Freddie did, though because of one of his new gadgets he was able to function just like normal and later I realized that I didn't even recognize his new pair of jeans as containing a cast until third period. If I had broken a leg, I wouldn't have had to bear the burden of sitting with my friends at lunch. My friends and Freddie.

Lunch was horrible. I sat with my paper bag and ate awkwardly while Freddie did the same.

"So," Carly said a bit unhappily, "I heard you guys had a moment in the parking lot."

"Yes." he replied at the same time as I blurted out, "Not at all!" We stared at each other before I continued, "It depends on your perspective."

"Who would have a moment with Fredwart?" Sam snorted in reply, tearing up a stick of Jerky with those huge teeth.

"I don't think there was a moment." I replied, glancing over at her. Then I reluctantly explained. "He called and asked for a ride to school today but forgot his backpack. When I gave him his backpack he reached in the wrong direction and ended up... 'touching' me. After that he fell, and I pushed him up, and left."

Sam laughed half heartedly. "Really, though, who would have a moment with Freddie?" then she added, "You know what I think he's just so starved for attention because no girl will look at him that any interaction with a girl he considers a moment."

"Will-you-go-out-with-me-to-the-smoothie-place-on-a-date-tomorrow?" he blurted out with the speed of... of something fast. My brain stopped. Each atom in the room pointed in my direction. The hellish madness stopped, and not even a fly buzzed. I swear the lady serving hot lunch even stopped and looked at me.

At that moment my mind was so conflicted.

Option one: Say yes. Be teased. Who cares, as long as you like each other, right? Love is the key. And everyone is bound to forget soon. But on the other hand, they might not. Or they might and just permanently downgrade my status from the noble ranking of loner-ish and usually silent to a loser nerd-dater. And treat me like they treat him. Like I treat him.

Option two: Say no. Just belt it out right here in front of everybody and humiliate him in front of the whole school and the lunch lady and the fourteen recorded flies that burrow in the gum on the underside of the tables. After all, I won't lose anything, and he'll just be humiliated, right? We might make it back to friend status i a few months. Or years. Maybe he'd get upset. But I shouldn't care, should I? After all... I might feel bad, though. It's just so horrible, what that would do to him! What if he cried? But do I really want that kind of a boy as my boyfriend? Not especially.

Option three: Get up and go. You will not be that humiliated. He will not be that humiliated. And you will not have to deal with delivering an answer.

I favored option three. I stood up and let the chair scrape the floor as it pushed back. Then I walked out as cooly as possible and sped through the hallway to the girls' bathroom.

"Julie!" a voice called from behind a curve. Footsteps echoed mine and the voice became clearer. "Julie, wait for me! Julie, I'm sorry." I gasped as I slid into the bathroom and leaned against the ceramic of the tile wall by the door. "Julie?" I heard him pant. The footsteps stopped by the door. "I'm sorry." he repeated. "I didn't mean to, I mean I shouldn't have, no, I mean I didn't mean to humiliate you. I didn't realize what a bad situation I put you in. You'd never like a nerd, I understand. I'm really sorry. I apologize. I wasn't thinking, I was just..." Trying to prove yourself to Sam, I thought. "It was a crime of passion." he sighed. "I can be romantic. I can stop being a nerd. I don't mind the bad treatment, but if it's making you look bad, I can change. I know Sam will never accept me, but I had hoped that you would. I'm so disappointed, I'd like you to know. But maybe you really are better with your dream guy. So I'll stop guilt tripping you now."

I didn't hear his gentle footfall carry him away for a few seconds. Then I rushed into a stall and leaned against the back of the wall. And that's when I started crying, and I heard him at the door. He came in, which was forbidden, and gently pushed open the door of the unlocked stall in which I sat. And then he ran over and started drying my eyes, and gave me a hug. A real true hug. And maybe, just maybe, I hugged back.

I feel bad saying this, but I avoided Freddie for the rest of the day. In fact, I avoided everyone. I went to class but completely zoned. Not unlike me. Not unlike me at all. But anyway, at least I got home alright. And when I did, he called me. And I made myself pick up. I was unsure at first, holding the quivering appliance in my hand. Its heat leaked down from its metal to the core of my ice cold palm. The breath shot out of the vents on the side and charged me like an angry bull. It was so intimidating that I was lured in. And I pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hi." he weakly replied. "Was wondering when we'd get a chance to talk. I, uh, never got your answer."

"You twerp, you might never get an answer." I shot back smoothly. "Not from me anyway. I'm not convinced that you appreciate me as much as you say you do. So prove it, Benson. I'm happy to say you're one of the more popular nerds because you're the camera man for iCarly. But still, I don't want to be known just as the girlfriend of a nerd. Probably the only girlfriend of a nerd in the history of Ridgeway. But I guess that would elevate your status too. So basically right now I'll give you a definite maybe. Or– hmm..." I thought a bit.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice braking through the static. "You still there?"

"Yeah..." I replied. Then I started up again. "I don't know if I want to date you, but I'll go on a date with you. Somewhere we won't see anyone we know and can just be ourselves. And then we'll go from there. You pick the date place and time, I'll be there if there isn't something already going on."

"Yes!" he shouted excitedly. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I'm cool with that."

"Scram, Benson." I giggled. And then he was gone. There was the cold metallic buzz and then silence, and I clicked off my own phone. Then I sighed and leaned back, letting my body fall limp onto my bed. I felt like a science experiment, writhing under the intensive glare of four hundred some students, none who wanted to be where they were, all who wanted to be greater. And now there was the choice. Do I go closer to the glass screen and myself or do I shrink as far away as possible and try to avoid what would come anyway: My presentation to the universe.

Scratch everything. I flipped open my phone and pressed four on speed dial.

"Take me out to dinner. Soon. Any place you want, near or far, as long as it's nice. Not a Quickly restaurant, somewhere we can eat and talk. At the same time. Book reservations, we'll go out within a week. Freddie, I'm sorry for being a bit cruel earlier. I do mean it. I could learn to like you a lot, just show me a good time Fred."

"Fabulous." A female voice cackled spiritlessly. "It's Sam. You must have dialed the wrong number, but just so you know, he's way below you. And I guess me to. But still, don't feel too bad for saying anything mean to him. He doesn't deserve that kind of treatment. Go! See yah."

Then the phone clicked off. My face was red. Upstairs the phone rang. Carly's phone.

"Hello?" she asked loudly. After a moment, she said, "Oh really? So she actually likes him? I'm going to call him right now and... what? I didn't hear you."

I sprinted out the door and up the stairs to the door across from Carly's. I knocked. Then rang. And finally my pleas were answered by him, him coming to the door and opening it and showing me a shocked expression. And this I greeted with something that must have been even more shocking to him. I ran up and threw one hand down his shoulder to touch his neck and another to his head and wrapped my lips around his. The door clicked open across the hall and Carly stepped out. And then she gasped. But I didn't care what she thought, I just pulled myself into his house and went into his room before turning to face him.

"Let's go out to That Pizza Place tonight for dinner. You can foot the bill and I'll provide conversation."

"Alright." he said. He looked like he was feeling pretty good about himself.

"Do you have anything cute to wear?" I asked. I started flipping through his clothes and threw at him a green v-neck and some kind of baggy pants. Then I ruffled his hair and hopped away. I would hope that if he becomes hot, then other people would like him and give me more of a good reason to like him. But all of my thoughts just lead to my feeling guilty. Shut up thoughts. I'm treading water with my lips and body now.

He wore what I had suggested and I wore a little black dress. It was so funny when I first saw him. He jutted out his left arm for me to put my hand on. Like a proper nerdy gentlemen. And I did as I suppose I was supposed to and we walked in and took a table. And we flirted some. And then the pizza came, so we ate. And then we flirted more. It was a good date if you're good at flirting. Thankfully he didn't fail at it. Little teases here and there. It was all fine. I can't say as much about the food, but I just ignored that. A good excuse to not eat in front of a guy though. Slowly, his shell cracked and he revealed the cool almond that he is. If that works. I don't know, I'm bad at reliving things.

I can perfectly relive what happened after. I was waiting at a park bench as he picked up smoothies for us. I saw him strutting toward me, and Sam and Carly coming to him from the other direction. Or to where he was in general. Sam looked at him and Carly's eyes popped.

"Freddie? Is that you?" she asked. "Wow, you look hot!" She flipped her hair and looked him over, grinning sweetly.

"Thanks." he replied, blushing. I stood up and walked over before she stole him away.

"Thanks for the smoothie." I said, making myself a little lower and staring up into his eyes. "Should I pay? I don't feel right letting you foot the bill again."

"Uh, well, I'll pay." he replied, grinning and blushing more. He really had it going for him that night. Two girls being overly nice to him on the same day, even fighting over him! He must have been in heaven. Nerd heaven.

As we were leaving, a thought entered my mind. This was how Sam felt, wasn't it? When she hung out with him during iCarly filming?

The next day during school, Sam did nothing but stare at him and glare at me. She acted like nothing was wrong when we talked, but as soon as we were done she went back to glaring. And at some point I kissed Freddie, I don't know why, maybe just to mess with Sam. As an experiment. And she just looked away at something else. At some point I saw her look with weary eyes at her reflection in her locker mirror. And then I saw her turn away from it and wipe her hand across her face, leaving her eyes dry but showing briefly a damp trail from one side of the eye over the thin bags dropping from under her lashes, all the way to one temple. And then a drop. An actual thick and rolling plop of pure emotion that slid down her cheek like butter on a steaming mountain of mashed potatoes.

And then all emotion was gone and her face was again lacking. I wondered, was all that meat comfort food? And then my most horrible thought yet came into my mind.

I was terrible. How long had she liked him then, for years? And how many years? Without making a move, without fighting for the kill. With years of longing to run her hand over his shoulder blade and smooth down his hair, maybe she had plans to make the changes to his wardrobe that I made, maybe she had had these plans for years and years on end.

And maybe, I thought, maybe I'm just that terrible, terrible enough that I should let her have him. What pain she was going through before, I experienced. But what she must have been feeling at that moment with the teardrop rolling down her cheek, that was pain above my comprehension.

A figure stumbled before me, and up until that moment I hadn't realized that I'd been standing motionless in the hall as these thoughts ran through my head. That figure was Freddie's figure. And so I reacted in the only way that I could think of.

I pressed my lips firmly to his, in front of whoever the hell might be watching, and dug my tongue through his parted teeth. I was climbing all over him. Then I stopped. And I drew my body up tightly against his until my mouth was practically in his ear.

"We should have never been together. You like Sam, and you're back on the market now. Go get her." I whispered. Then I disappeared, tears streaming down my chin. The hardest breakup I would ever make would probably be this one. I then took a deep breath and looked out from the window of the door of the science classroom by the office where Freddie and I first made minor romance.

Sam looked tired, but when she saw Freddie so sad, she looked a little less so. She walked up to him. She talked to him. Then they were laughing a little. She clapped him on the back and he said something to her. She sighed and nodded. And I couldn't bear to watch anymore.

I ducked down into the classroom and took out my comfort: The Harry Potter book. And when I looked up, I saw a small white owl perched on the sill of the open window across from me, in it's beak clutched a letter with a red wax seal and addressed to me in cursive. And I smiled.


End file.
